


this ain’t a noose, this is a leash

by Writing_Like_Ill_Die



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), F/F, Hanahaki Disease, Mental Health Issues, Nice Enoshima Junko, Non-Despair Enoshima Junko, Recovery, Sane Enoshima Junko, Therapy, Tsumiki Mikan Being a Good GF, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 20:03:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_Like_Ill_Die/pseuds/Writing_Like_Ill_Die
Summary: There’s not enough fics with wholesome Junkan so I’m making some myself. People need to take advantage of the fact that Junko can be a good person in non-despair.Comments are adored!!Angsty fun fact: Junko was dreaming of her despair self yelling at her >:3





	this ain’t a noose, this is a leash

Junko is one of the strongest people Mikan had ever encountered. And when you’re a nurse, you meet some very strong people. Junko was an orphan, taken in by the military illegally and broken down into something they could use. Yet she came out of it laughing and grinning, dragging her sister by the hand into the shining, hopeful world. Junko could have broken. She could have fallen into despair, and tried to drag everyone into it with her. But instead, she clawed her way out of her bad situation, tied a rope around her afflictions, and said ‘I control you now, and you’re going to lead me to a better place.’ Instead of becoming a monster, like the military gang that raised her and Mukuro surely wanted her to, she became the Ultimate Strategist, and the friend of everyone she decided she liked.

That’s what made her strong. Her ability to speed past insecurities, and take what she wants like it was a grand prize, even if no one else wanted it. The same ability that led her to grab Mikan under the arms and drag her from her insecurities and terrible past and into the light, like pulling a star out of the inky blackness of the night. And Mikan admired that about Junko so, so very much. But if Junko was so strong...

Then why she in Mikan’s office coughing up flowers like someone was squeezing the air out of her? It wasn’t like Hanahaki was uncommon, of course. Mikan had had her share of students coming to her with flowers in her hands and insecurity in their hearts. Nine times out of ten, Hanahaki was caused by a perceived inability to have what you desired, whether it be a person, or, rarely, a concept. That’s what her nursing books had said, and she stood by it. Because through her years treating the disease, she had never once seen someone who could really and truly not have what they wanted.

Komaeda, the poor, already weak boy, was well loved by Hajjme Hinata, who chewed him out for hiding it from him the entire time Komaeda spit up the last of his sunflower petals. They were still together, and it was rare to see them not together. And Shinguji, asking her politely not to tell anyone about the scars on his mouth as he coughed up Queen Anne’s Laces, was able to find acceptance and friendship, a safe haven from his past, within his classmates. (His classmates who, much to Mikan’s discharge, all skipped class to make sure he was okay, crowding up the hall outside her office in the process.)

Even Mikan herself, trying to treat herself for the gardenias crawling up her throat, found her love for her underclassmen strategist returned in full force. Junko loved her fiercely as she loved everything else, if the constant gifts and affection were anything to go by. Yet if she loved Mikan... Mikan picked up the petals from the floor while Junko shakily sipped the speciality tea that would kill the flowers and relieve the coughing. Though, of course, it wouldn’t stop the routes. Acceptance was the only cure.

The tiny, outwards curved flowers surprised her. Purple Hyacinth. ‘Please forgive me’? She almost expected to be coughing these up instead. What could it mean for Junko? Still, she knew in an instant that these flowers weren’t for her. Their relationship had been happy. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for...

Ah.

So that’s what this was about.

Even people as strong as Junko has her insecurities and fears. And Junko’s fear was herself. She feared her intrusive thoughts, feared the things she’d had to do in the past to survive. She feared becoming the monster that Fenrir tried to craft her into.

Mikan looked up at her girlfriend. She was in a pink hoodie, the sleeves rolled up so she could draw all over the scars on her arms. Mikan knew what needed to be done to help Junko become better.

* * *

It was their first real argument since Mikan passed out from overworking, five months ago, in November.

“I’m not broken, Mikan! I don’t need to go see a god damn—“ She coughed, covering her mouth as she wretched. Please forgive me poured out of her mouth, and was tossed into the trash bin. “I don’t need to see a therapist!”

“Are you saying I’m broken?” Mikan’s voice shook. It was hard not to cower when someone was angry, but she needed to do this. Junko paused in her anger. After all, she’s the one that convinced Mikan to get psychological help. The pigtailed girl sighed, looking guilty. A stray petal stuck to her lip.

“No. You’re not broken at all, Miki. I know you just want to help. I’ll try. But I’m not going to guarantee anything!”

Mikan could almost cry, and she did when Junko opened her arms, asking silently for comfort and snuggles.

* * *

“Do I ask for praise a lot?” Junko asked her quietly as they watched the sun set from the school garden. Junko loved to come here, to see the flowers, chat with Gokuharu and class 76’s Ultimate Gardener, and to help them with maintenance of the garden.

Mikan tugged at the dirtied overalls she wore as she racked her mind for memories of that, if any. Her hair was in a big messy bun, crafted by Junko so that she didn’t have to worry about her hair getting in the way while she weeded the peonies. It also helped her keep cool in the late summer sun.

“Well... yes. You say stuff like ‘aren’t I the greatest’ a lot.” Mikan recalled. Junko laugher softly. It wasn’t her usual, fierce and boisterous laugh, border-lining on obnoxious. This laugh was closer to being embarrassed. Almost shameful. Please forgive me, it said. Just like the steadily declining flowers she coughed into the soil.

* * *

Mikan woke to Junko’s scared breathing. She sat up, and looked into watery blue eyes in the dark, only made visible by the pink plug-in nightlight in her wall. Mikan opened her arms, offering a hug. Junko crawled into them, like a scared child, and it occurred to Mikan that she was whispering something.

“I wanna be good... let me be good... let me have this... I know I don’t deserve it, I know I’m not good... please forgive me...” she coughed weakly, flowers sure to follow, and Mikan rubbed her back.

* * *

Leaves fell from their trees outside, as the two most important people to Junko met with her therapist to hear her diagnosis.

“On the bright side, your empathy isn’t as bad as Togami’s.” Mukuro cracked a smile, patting Junko’s shoulder.

“From what I’ve been told, that’s true.” Mrs. Suzuki, Junko’s therapist, had once been in the running for Ultimate Therapist. She was good at making people feel welcome. Or that’s what Mikan observed, holding a simply embarrassed Junko against her chest. She was relaxed, unperturbed by her diagnosis. Just embarrassed at having her shockingly low empathy laid out for her.

It was almost like she had been behind a fogged glass, and now that Suzuki had reworded something Junko had said in the past to show how it might be bad to say, Junko could see it clearly.

“When were you planning on telling me that calling Ishi-kun a tightass when he was having a panic attack wasn’t thoughtful, Miki-chan?” Junko asked into her pastel blue blouse.

“I didn’t know how to make you get it, so, um... never.” Mikan said sheepishly. Junko groaned, cleared her throat, and spit out a petal. Mikan could tell that someone else would be receiving a ‘please forgive me’ in vocal form soon.

* * *

As the three girls without a place to go for winter break, Junko, Mukuro, and Mikan found themselves staying at Hope’s Peak. Without much to do, they often went into town to shop and engage in activities. They found themselves at a local shrine. Mukuro was talking with the shrine keeper about good charms, while Junko and Mikan sat before the shrine, praying.

Mikan never saw herself as exactly religious. She hoped that the spirits around her were nice, but she didn’t dedicate herself to any kami. Still, she wished for continued happiness and health, and watched Junko with adoration once she herself had finished praying.

“What did you pray for?” Junko asked, smiling softly unclasping her hands. A black scarf wove around her neck, though it certainly didn’t cover the cleavage that Junko was so proud of.

“Continued happiness and fortune. You?” Mikan smiled right back. She rested her hand on Junko’s. Junko took her hand in hers.

“I wished that I could live with you guys forever.” It was a surprisingly tender statement from Junko, who usually said things plain and bold. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was good that Junko was starting to realize that she didn’t always have to go about things intensely.

She didn’t have to shoot things by and grab Mikan by the hand to drag the nurse to her, because she’d come willingly. Junko was strong, but she didn’t have to show it so fiercely. She didn’t have to be afraid that things would run away from her if she didn’t tie a leash around them and declare them hers. Mikan knew her lover’s recovery was far from done, and the pills she now took in the morning were proof.

Junko was still scared of being a monster. She still drew on her arms when she was upset so she wouldn’t hurt herself. But she had recovered enough that she realized that she could have this happiness, this hopeful ending.

The petals had stopped long ago. She didn’t have apologize for being happy.

**Author's Note:**

> There’s not enough fics with wholesome Junkan so I’m making some myself. People need to take advantage of the fact that Junko can be a good person in non-despair.
> 
> Comments are adored!!
> 
> Angsty fun fact: Junko was dreaming of her despair self yelling at her >:3


End file.
